


Die Another Way

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Humor, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-22
Updated: 2003-09-22
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Three vignettes from the "What If" universe.  CD/Parody.





	Die Another Way

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Die Another Way

## Die Another Way

### by bcfan

TITLE: Die Another Way  
AUTHOR: bcfan   
WEBSITE: [bcfanfic.tripod.com](http://bcfanfic.tripod.com)/  
CLASSIFICATION: CD, Parody  
**RATING: R**  
SUMMARY: Three vignettes from the "What if..." universe 

* * *

  1. Sticky Fingers 



Dana Scully beamed with pride as she surveyed her kingdom, a pristine basement office. Books were lined with military precision, the bulletin board was posted with letters of commendation, and the last detritus of what she could only think of as 'junk' had at last been hauled away. The X-Files was her dream assignment - everyone said she was on her way to bigger and better things. Tom Colton and his earlier snide remarks be damned! 

Sighing with pleasure, Scully sat at her large burnished desk and reflected on her good fortune. It had all began with the case file she held in her hands. She looked at the label, Eugene Victor Tooms, and a bittersweet expression ghosted across her normally impassive features. 

Mulder Mulder Mulder, she reflected fondly, then shook her head. So handsome, such a great butt and sexy smile - and yet so clueless. 

Everything had been business as usual until they'd found Tooms' apartment hideaway. She remembered the conversation as if it had been yesterday. 

Mulder had exclaimed excitedly, "Hey, Scully, This is a nest. Look, it's made out of rags and newspapers." 

Scully was sure she must have expressed caution. She prided herself on being the levelheaded, logical partner. But had Mulder listened to her? No... 

Mulder felt the opening and got a slimy substance on his hand. 

Scully was disgusted. "Oh my God, Mulder, it's smells like, I think it's bile." 

Mulder pretended not to panic. "Is there any way I can get it off my fingers quickly without betraying my cool exterior?" 

He began flicking the stuff off his fingers, while Scully searched her bag for a sterile wipe. She'd learned to expect the unexpected with her partner. 

Within moments, though, Mulder had stopped complaining and collapsed instead. 

"Maybe it's not bile after all, Mulder," Scully calmly offered as she flipped open her cell phone. She had '911' as number one on her speed dial. This was the fifth time she'd called this year. Scully shook her head. The man just had no sense of self-preservation. 

The funeral was sad of course. Closed casket, since Mulder's body had turned from handsome to horrific as the mystery acid ate through his skin. Yes, it was sad - but there had been unexpected benefits. 

Let me count the ways, Scully delightedly considered. Well, the cover article in the New England Journal of Medicine was one bonus. Her investigation of the acid had led to her discovery of a heretofore-unlabeled disease. Scully was the first to identify toxicus pseudobilis, which had opened up whole new vistas of medical research. She was expecting a grant from the Guggenheim Foundation at any moment. 

Oh yes, Scully thought, and I can't forget how the X-Files brand new, 100% solve rate was the talk of upper echelons at the FBI. Could the director's chair be far behind? 

Scully glanced down and noticed the file in her hands. She carefully reached over and swung the revolving set of stamps, thinking hard. To keep up the perfect solve rate she had to evaluate each x-files case with scientific precision. Ahh, yes, there's the one - Scully decided that Tom Colton was correct in his assessment of the Tooms' case. 

She carefully inked the stamp and imprinted the word 'Insane' across the front of the file in big red letters. Throwing the file in the solved box, Scully leaned back in her chair with a sigh of satisfaction. 

Another case closed. Scully was the department head of her universe, and life was good. 

2\. 731 Ways to Leave Your Lover 

"Ka boom!" echoed through Scully's phone receiver, before the line went dead. Scully jerked the phone away from her ear, shocked. 

And also annoyed. Sure things didn't seem too good for Mulder right now, if the bomb explosion was any indication, but really - had Mulder found yet another way to leave her? Mulder had promised last week, naked and on his knees, that he loved Scully oh so much and would never ever ditch her again, but since then he'd found three new ways. Scully smiled ruefully and shook her head. Mulder had looked so cute kneeling there, naked and fully erect, a glowing red butt well punished from his last ditch, tear tracks streaking his sincere face and soft pleading eyes. She knew she was a softie where Mulder was concerned. She should have been stricter and punished him longer. Then he wouldn't have run off again. 

Scully dug around in her purse until she found the small notebook. Flipping through the pages, she added number 731 to her list and wrote the words "ditched by explosion" carefully on the line, paused, then noted "strapping - 15 times." Since Scully had last seen Mulder, she'd already written number 730 ("ditched by pretending phone went dead - hand spanking - 12 times") and number 729 ("ditched by jumping on moving train - strapping - 10 times"). Smirking, she added "corner time" to the list - if Mulder survived his latest ditch, he was going to wish he were dead. 

Scully chuckled gleefully. I'd better go to the gym this afternoon, she decided. I have to keep in shape to get ready for Mulder's return - and chastisement. The nuns of her girlhood had taught her well. 

Sadly, Mulder did not return. There was no casket or funeral, since there wasn't enough of Mulder to put together. Instead, Scully wept at his memorial service and was gratified when Agent Pendrell offered his support. With Mulder's demise, Scully had been left well exercised and with no outlet for her considerable organizational skills. Scully had been so engrossed with her relationship with Mulder she had never given Pendrell two looks before. Suddenly she remembered one of dear departed Mulder's favourite sayings - "Consider the possibilities." 

"Thank you for lending me your arm, Agent Pendrell." Scully looked up at him and smiled endearingly. 

Pendrell, unused to Scully's attention, blushed to the roots of his hair. 

"No - no problem at all, Agent, uh, I mean Dana." Pendrell stuttered. 

"Please continue to call me Agent Scully," she pronounced coolly, "until I tell you different." 

Pendrell gulped. She knew he admired her professionalism. 

"Pendrell, dear, I believe I'll call you Penny in private. Would you like to come back to my place? We can get to know each other. I've been meaning to discuss your slovenly lab practices." 

"Yes, ma'am," Pendrell squeaked. 

Scully smiled. Her universe, listing badly because of Mulder's death, was righting itself once again. She vowed to ceremoniously burn Mulder's notebook, then move on. Perseverance, organization and justice had been her earliest lessons, and she was happy to continue them. 

Scully knew - she made the world a better place. It was her duty to teach her lessons to others. 

3\. Die! Bug! Die! 

Scully was part of a frozen tableau at the Ashford Medical Centre emergency room. She and the doctor were stumped, helpless to know how to proceed with the beetle infestation currently choking the life from Mulder. Suddenly Skinner entered with Daryl Weaver and Scully sprang to action. 

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute." She demanded. "Get me 30 milligrams of methyl pyrrolidinyl pyridine." 

The doctor sounded shocked, "Nicotine?" 

"Yes. I think this could save Mulder's life." 

Unfortunately, it didn't. Mulder convulsed on the operating table, then expired. As the life drained from his infested body, thousands of tobacco beetles began to pour from his mouth and nose - and all seemed to be heading straight for Agent Scully. 

She screamed - not a girlie scream - but a full-throated wail of horror and began to back out of the room, her gun drawn at the myriad of insects. Luckily, she only fired off three rounds before Skinner and a muscular orderly restrained her. 

* 

Mulder's memorial was unique as his life. Scully had insisted - from her temporary residence at the Happy Acres Psychiatric Institute - that Mulder's body would make perfect compost, so he was planted under a red cedar next to their favourite bench. 

Shortly after her release, Scully decided to venture into the Hoover Building once again. She'd made a few changes of course - sensible changes. She'd been blind to the fact until now that vicious, sneaky insects were everywhere. 

Scully strode into AD Skinner's office, a vision in white from her insect net helmet to her sensible white loafers. 

Skinner stood and stared, seemingly mesmerized by Scully's pale ethereal beauty. 

"Agent Scully," he cleared his throat, "I understand you've commissioned a HAZMAT team to inspect your office." 

"That is correct." Cool reply. "And the findings were conclusive. I will not be able to go back there. The basement is a potential insect breeding ground." 

"Hmm. And I further understand, Agent, that you've refused to perform autopsies." 

Scully held the scented white hanky to her face, breathing deeply. Her fainting spell averted, she fluttered her eyes and pleaded, "Can you blame me, Sir? I mean, I'd be handling disease ridden corpses!" 

Skinner stared, silent. As he did so, Scully managed to consider her boss carefully for the very first time. His brilliant white shirts, his clean naked scalp - why had she not noticed this paragon of perfection before? 

"Excuse me, sir," Scully began nervously. "Do you mind a personal question? I've just been admiring your bald scalp. Do you have much body hair?" 

Skinner swallowed, his eyes wide behind wire-rim glasses. A look of regret seemed to fly, fleeting, across his face. 

"Sorry to say, Agent Scully, I am quite hairy. Does that disturb you?" 

"It's only that a body is so much cleaner without any hair." Scully sighed. "I've been searching for someone new, Sir, since Mulder's unhappy passing. I had hoped..." 

Skinner suddenly strode forward, his voice determined. "Search no longer, Agent. I'll book a full depilatory treatment immediately. As long as you - that is," his words came out in a rush, "As long as you don't mind continuing to dress so beautifully in white. It reminds me so much of my wonderful nurse in the V.A. hospital." 

Scully smiled, happy for the first time since her insectridden nightmare had begun. Her future looked bright - and very clean. 

**END**   
  


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